A Cold Winter's Eve
by i'mnotcrazy82
Summary: House and Cuddy are snowed in together. Might be a little fluffy later. Rated M for later chapters. All HUDDY
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N-**_

_**You all hate me, right??? Please tell me you hate me?? Because my frickin' muse will NOT LET ME BE!**_

_**This one will be short, I think. I reserve the right to change my mind.. And it will contain smut. **_

_**It takes place in the near futureish...but Lucas is out of the picture, cuz well, he's cock blocking house, and that just pisses me off! **_

_**Okay, hope you like this, enjoy!**_

_**As always, I own nothing but a full cheap notebook and some broken pencils. DS owns House and Cuddy, but I thank him for sharing his toys :-)**_

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A Cold Winter's Eve  
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_**~ Storm of the Century ~**_

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**The snow started around nine a.m. Tiny white flakes sprinkled down from heavy, steel colored clouds. By noon, there was a dusting covering the grass in the courtyards of the hospital. The janitors set to work mopping the wet entry ways and sprinkling ice-melt on the steps around the hospital, while the grounds crews began to start clearing the sidewalks, but the snow kept falling.**

**Lisa Cuddy sat at her desk, rubbing her temples. She'd just gotten off the phone with the snow plow company that the hospital had a contract with. The president of the company had tried to jack up his rates, complaining that they had a lot of extra work with the predicted foot or more of snow on the way, and she had spent the last thirty minutes threatening that that was a legal breach of contract. Due to her outstanding debating skills, she eventually won, but before she hung up, she heard him mutter "bitch."**

**Her day just went downhill from there.**

**The hospital was short staffed due to the weather, and she had made the decision that all absences were to be considered excused. She didn't want her employees to come in to work via the E.R. with auto accident injuries. Because of that, the E.R. Became a madhouse, with the usual winter storm auto accident victims, pulled muscles and heart attacks from shoveling snow, as well as injuries from sledding accidents and falls.**

**At seven p.m., there was about six inches of snow on the ground, and the slush was starting to freeze as the temperatures dropped. She was exhausted, running around the hospital all day, and she couldn't wait to get home. She shut her briefcase, and she slipped on her heavy wool coat, grateful that the day was through. She made her way to the foyer, stopping by the reception desk for any last minute messages before she left.**

**As she stood, waiting for the nurse to check her inbox, a large manila envelope was slapped down in front of her. She turned around, and she found Wilson standing behind her. "What's this?" she asked, rhetorically, flipping the file over, inwardly groaning when she read who it was addressed to, and where it was from.**

"**What did House do this time?" she closed her eyes, feeling the headache that had been building all day increase its throbbing. "And why does it involve the law firm of Stuart and Brown?" She was going to need the extra-extra strength dose of pain reliever tonight.**

**Wilson grimaced. "He...may have threatened a patient's wife." He cringed, seeing the sharp look she gave him. "And...that patient's wife's brother may be a senior partner at that firm..."**

**She sighed, wanting to bang her head against a wall, regretting even asking that question. "And what does this have to do with me?" she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.**

"**Bill asked me to give it to you," he told her, mentioning the hospital's legal representative on the Board. "He said that you're his superior, so you need to deliver it. And deal with him."**

"**Yeah, right," she muttered under her breath. "Let me guess, he's gone for the day?"**

**Wilson nodded. "Said the weather made his leg pain flare up, so he cut out around lunch." At her annoyed look, he continued. "In his defense, he's on lighter pain killers now, and he could barely stand upright."**

**She sighed. "It'll have to wait until tomorrow, assuming we're not shut down."**

**Wilson nodded, sympathetically. "The TV in one of my patient's room said we could get up to two feet."**

**She glanced out the large glass entrance way, watching the thick, fluffy flakes add to the ever growing white blanket of snow that was covering everything. "That does it. It's going to take me an hour to get home as it is. It'll have to wait until tomorrow."**

"**You'll do it tonight." A deep male voice drawled. William "Bill" Owens, a native Texan transplanted to Jersey, sauntered up to them. Cuddy inhaled sharply, keeping her dislike at bay. The man was a male chauvinist pig who seemed to think a woman needed to do twice the work of a man to prove herself worthy for any position of power. She knew he considered her a threat, and she had to walk carefully around him, or she might be out of a job thanks to the son of a b*tch. "House is being sued, again," he sneered, showing a dislike for the doctor who once called him a redneck hick in front of a disciplinary meeting, "and he's not around for me to discuss it. You're on your way home. Drop it off." Bill then walked away before she could retort him, leaving Cuddy fuming in his wake.**

"**Bastard," she hissed, sneering at his retreating back.**

**Wilson gave her a sympathetic look. "Sorry," he patted her on the shoulder.**

**She shrugged him off. "For what? It's not your fault that he's a bigger jerk than House." She looked out the big glass doors, then, with a defeated sigh, she pulled out her cell phone.**

**Wilson tilted his head, quizzically. "Who are you calling?"**

**She sighed, listening to the phone ring. "My sitter," she mouthed. She heard the click of a pick up. "Maria? Hi," she forced a smile. "It's Lisa. I'm just calling to let you know that I'm going to be late." She listened to the sitter's response, her brow furrowing, then she nodded. "Yes, the weather's horrible, and I have to run an errand for the hospital, but I'll be home as soon as possible." She frowned, listening to Maria's response. "Yes, Maria," she answered. "I'll be careful. Yes. I'll call you if something happens. Thank-you Maria; you're a godsend! 'Bye." She hung up, then allowed her self to slump.**

"**Are you going to be okay?" Wilson's brow furrowed lightly with worry.**

**She nodded. "I hate winter," she declared.**

**Wilson guffawed. "You should retire to Hawaii," he informed her.**

**She shook her head, digging in her bag for her keys. "La Costa del Sol, Spain," she said with a wry smile. "Lots of sun, an hot European men with sexy accents and bronzed bodies."**

**Wilson chuckled and rolled his eyes. "And not anyone named House around, right?" At her dry look, he gave her a sympathetic smile, then became somber. "He's still sore about the whole situation with Lucas, you know."**

**She closed her eyes. "That was a bad mistake. On all accounts."**

"**He forgives you, you know," Wilson kept his voice soft. "He just doesn't know how ****to express that." He arched a fuzzy eyebrow at her. "And you need to forgive yourself, too." He collected his things, and he ventured back into the chaos that was the hospital, being on-call for the night.**

**She sighed. "Easier said than done," she muttered aloud to herself. Then she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the task at hand. Operation deliver the envelope to House, and get home safe.**

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**An hour later, she was slowly creeping down the snow covered streets. She could barely make out the buildings around her; the snow was falling that thickly. After the third stoplight she skidded through, she began to think that this was a fool's errand. "I swear, next fucking winter, I'm buying a truck with four-wheel drive," she groused aloud. An image of her driving some monster truck style vehicle, crushing cars left and right entered her mind, and a giggle slipped out of her lips. "Dear god," she exclaimed aloud," I'm thinking like House!"**

**That was the moment her car's tires spun out, and her car skidded sideways. She pressed down hard on the brake pedal, and her car stopped a dozen yards away, just missing a parked beater, sliding into a mountain of snow piled up by Princeton's street department. Her heart was hammering against her rib cage, and her hands gripped her steering wheel so tightly that it soon became painful. When she could finally speak, all she could do was curse breathlessly.**

**She got out of the car, and she made sure she hadn't hit anything. She'd not felt an impact, but then again, adrenaline was coursing through her as her car slid out of her control. She was blocking an ally about a half dozen blocks away from the loft. After she made sure there wasn't anything to be worried about, she got back in her car, and she put it in reverse. She pressed down on the accelerator, but all that happened was her tires spun. She pressed the pedal to the floor, and the engine roared, exhaust billowed out of her tail pipe, but the car didn't move. The tires spun like mad, but the car would not move. She cut the engine, resting her forehead on the steering wheel, and she closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She was stuck in the drift.**

**After a few moments spent trying to calm down, she moaned to herself, "this day can't get any worse." Then she heard a hard tapping sound coming from her window. She didn't want to look, but she did anyway, and she saw House's smirking face looking at her.**

**That's when she decided that someone out there had a sick sense of humor.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N-**_

_**Again, like LF, forgive me. I've been battling a pretty bad cold for the past week, and haven't gotten any writing done. But now, I'm feeling better, and back to writing again. So, forgive me for the delay. **_

_**Just a warning, I was only planning on updating this once a week, anyway :-)**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**As always, I own nothing but some cheap spiral notebooks, and some broken mechanical pencils. DS owns House, but I thank him for sharing his toys. Now if only he can get rid of Lucas...  
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**_~ Slow Drive To Nowhere ~_**

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Cuddy pursed her lips as the tapping on her window became incessant. She took a deep breath, then she opened the door. "What do you want?" she asked harshly, upset, but not at him, but at the situation in general.

"Wondering what you're doing on this side of town during a blizzard." His breath misted in the cold air, and she shivered. A tight skirt and heels were not the best winter weather clothing, even if she did wear nylons. He continued on, despite the fact she didn't answer him the first time. He took in her situation. "Do you have a shovel or salt or kitty litter in the trunk, like Eagle scout Wilson does?" he asked.

"I have a shovel, she admitted. She frowned at him. "What are you doing out in this weather? Wilson told me you left early because the weather was bothering your leg?"

"It does," he admitted, limping off the snow blanketed sidewalk, finding a break in the drift piled up by the snow plows. He thrust the brown paper bag he was carrying in her hands. "Pop the trunk."

She did as he asked, then she peaked in the bag. "Whiskey?" she asked, wrinkling her brow.

He retrieved the shovel from the trunk, and he made his way carefully back to her. He simultaneously giving her the shovel as he took back the bag. "Bourbon," he clarified, looking affronted. "Maker's mark at that. The best thing to warm you up on a cold winter's eve." He gave the shovel a pointed look, then his gaze drifted back to her eyes. "The snow's not gonna shovel itself, ya know."

"What?" she exclaimed. "I have to..."

"Bum leg," he cut her off. "Just dig around the tires. "While you do that, I'll hit up that mini market for some litter." He tossed the bag into her car's backseat, then he turned to her, and he held out his hand. "Need ten bucks for the litter."

She frowned, her eyebrows shooting up. "Litter's only a few dollars a bag."

"Pain and suffering charge. It's gotta be at least a hundred yards to the store," he complained. She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he quickly continued. "I do this, and you give me the ten bucks, ad we get you out of the drift before this storm gets any worse." She teetered o the edge of acquiescence, and he drove the final nail of rationale home. "You get to see Mowgli faster than you would by digging yourself out, alone."

Annoyed as she was by his logic, she knew he was right. "Hand me my purse," she sighed. She opened her checkbook, and his eyes grew wide. His face fell when she plucked a crisp ten dollar bill out of the wallet. "Thanks," she mumbled, reluctantly.

He shrugged. "AAA ain't running tonight, so that makes me..."

"Don't push it," she warned. She jerked her chin towards the convenience store just down the block. "Go."

"Yes, boss lady," he winked at her with a smirk, and she began to clear the snow from around her tires.

It took him about ten minutes, but he came back with a bag of litter. She spread it out around her rear tires, which is where the problem lied. He sat down in the driver's seat, observing her. "What are you doing?" she asked, frustrated with the situation.

"Bum leg," he rolled his eyes. "I've got no leverage. Someone needs to push the gas, and you're gonna have to push the car."

She closed her eyes, her frustration quickly turning into anger. "I'm in heels," she whined, but she moved to the back of the car.

Twenty minutes later, they managed to free the car while the snow swirled thickly around them. Frazzled, angry, and exhausted, she returned to the driver's side door. "Thanks," she said, shortly. "Now, get out. I want to go home"

"Then get in the passenger's seat." When the shock at his words faded, she began to protest, but he cut her off quickly. "You're tired and angry, and driving like that, in this weather, ALONE," he put emphasis on the word, "is not the smartest thing to do. A wry smile twitched on his lips, "Actually," he mused, "the smartest thing would have been for you to go straight home, but something crawled up your luscious butt, and you had to come and see me. I can only hope it was for a booty call."

"Your point is?"

"I'm driving you home. So get in."

She really wanted to fight him, to argue more, but she was cold, wet, and exhausted. "Fine," she spat out. Against her better judgment, she climbed in the passenger's seat.

It took them nearly an hour and half to drive to her home, most of it spent in uncomfortable silence. They were about twenty minutes from her house, and he couldn't bear it anymore. "So why were you going to my place. I'm sure it wasn't for a tour of the loft. And by tour of the loft I meant..."

"I know what you meant," she gritted out through a clinched jaw. "Bill sent me to deliver a legal notice to you."

"And you willingly did it?" he exclaimed. "Jesus Cuddy, why didn't you just leave it on my desk, or give it to Wilson."

She sighed, rubbing at her temples. "Wilson gave it to me." She bit her lip. "Bill thinks I give you preferential treatment."

"And this disproves it?"

"This keeps him off my back."

"This just gives him you on a shorter leash. Next thing he's going to do is ask you to fire me, before he wants you on your knees in your office. Fucking redneck asshole," he muttered, angrily.

"Why do you care?" she spit back.

"Uh, my job, duh?" He shook his head, and they drove on while she fumed in silence.

Finally, he sighed, "And yours."

"What?" He turned down her street, and she turned towards him.

"You're the Joan of Arc of PPTH." He pulled into her driveway. "Don't give that up for a narcissistic asshole."

She gave him a wry smile. "I'm pretty sure that Joan of Arc died a virgin."

He returned her smirk, and he slowly climbed out the car, stopping to pull the bottle out of her backseat. He watched as she rushed to the door, no doubt wanting to see her brat.

He heard her exclaim, "Maria!" as she greeted her nanny, he entered the home as she dashed off to see her kid.

"Hello," the sitter welcomed him. They stood in awkward silence, then Cuddy came smiling down the hallway. Thanks for waiting, Maria. Are you going to be able to get home okay?"

"Oh yeah, Ms. Cuddy. It was no problem at all. I'm just glad you were able to get home okay." She gave one last look to the cranky looking man with the cane by the door, then she left."

After a few moments of silence, he finally griped, "stop worrying about her, Cuddy."

"But there's about a half of foot of snow on the ground, and it's just getting worse." She bit her lip.

He limped over to her couch, and he settled down on it, stretching out. "I'm sure she'll call you when she gets back to her place. She's got to know how much of a worrier you are."

She gave him a dry look, then a look of puzzlement drew across her features. "How are you going to get home?"

A smirk slowly widened on his features. She didn't like the look of that grin. It was the kind of smile alligators got just before munching on their prey. Then, he said the words she'd been fearing since she'd asked him that question.

"I'm stuck here 'til they dig you out."


	3. Chapter 3

~ Can't Escape You ~

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Cuddy groaned at his words. She couldn't decide if this was her worst nightmare or greatest dream come to life.

She decided that it had to be her worst nightmare; it just couldn't be really happening.

She didn't know how to respond. She'd open her mouth, thinking about speaking, but her mind would go blank. She looked at the smug bastard stretched out on her couch, his legs crossed at the ankles, a smirk of superiority twisted on his lips. It was enough to make her want to slap him and throw him out into the storm.

"Get your shoes off my couch," she groused at him. She covered the short distance to the sofa, and she pushed his feet off it." She knew she was just taking out her annoyance on him, but it still felt good, this venting of her frustrations.

"Hey!" he yelped, giving her a dirty look as he twisted around. "I was comfortable," he grumbled, bending down to unlace his sneakers. He slipped his sock covered feet out of the running shoes, then frowned. His socks were damp from waking in the snow, so he went ahead and pulled them off. "Better?" He resumed his position on the couch, folding his arms behind his head.

Cuddy sniffed with reluctant approval. Her eyes traveled over his form, from his black t-shirt clad torso, to his blue-jeans, down to his narrow, bare feet. The man had sexy feet, she noticed. Long and narrow, with long, elegant toes, they drew his attention.

"_God_," she chastised herself. "_I must have it bad if I'm noticing how sexy his feet are._"

Noticing her scrutiny, he wiggled his toes. "You know what they say about the size of a guy's feet," he smirked at her, waggling his eyebrows, teasing her.

Furious with herself for being caught ogling the bastard, she blushed, but, without skipping a beat, she stared pointedly at his groin before shrugging. "If I remember right, you were...okay..." she trailed off.

He choked out a gasp, then he mockingly placed a hand over his heart, acting wounded. "My god, Cuddy! Have you suffered memory loss lately? I had you screaming my name so loud..."

A smirk spread across her tired features. "I didn't say you weren't talented," she shrugged.

"Words can hurt, you know," he sneered. "I haven't had a complaint about Little Greg, yet," he boasted, proudly.

She snorted. "Of course, you'd be egotistical enough to name your dick.

"You seriously think he just has one name?" he smirked.

"He," she asked, immediately knowing she was going to regret asking that.

"Yes, 'He,'" he rolled his eyes. "You don't think he's an it or a she, do you?"

"I can't believe I'm having the conversation with you," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Before their conversation could go further, Rachel's cries began to sound over the baby monitor on the end table. Cuddy gave House a slightly apologetic look, then she walked down the hall into Rachel's room.

House snorted, then he glanced down at his crotch. "Maybe she was drunker than I remember," he muttered. Then he picked up the remote, wondering if Cuddy had Cinimax on demand.

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Rachel was wet and hungry again. She'd been standing in her crib, wailing, and Cuddy rushed over to her. "Shhhh, sweetheart," she crooned, moving the girl to the changing table. She changed her diaper, though, Rachel kept kicking her legs, doing everything in her power to prevent Cuddy from changing her. "Sweetie," Cuddy sighed, becoming exasperated, "help me. The sooner your dry, the happier we all will be." A few minutes later, she finally finished changing her. She changed her into a dry onesie, then fed her.

Fed and changed, Rachel was wide awake, so Cuddy carried her around the room, singing and coaxing her back to sleep. It seemed to take hours, but finally, Rachel laid her head on Cuddy's shoulder, and soon, she began to hear her soft snores. She tentatively put her in the crib. She held her breath as Rachel stirred, her eye lids fluttering, but soon she was able to exhale in relief when the little girl didn't wake up.

She quietly exited the room, then she shut the door as softly as she could. She waited a moment, her head pressed against the door, listening for any indication that Rachel had woken up. When she didn't, she inhaled deeply. One problem solved, and now, it was time to tackle the bigger problem laying on the couch in the living room.

She turned around, to head down the hall to confront House, only to find him leaning against the wall of the hallway, the baby monitor from the living room in his hand.

He'd heard every word.

She jumped a little, not expecting him to be standing there. His arms were folded across his chest, an undecipherable, unreadable emotion gleaming his his blue eyes, though a bemused expression was etched on his face. Before he she could ask him what he was doing in the hallway, he spoke to her.

"Got the mom thing down, huh?"

She swallowed nervously, her mouth suddenly dry at his soft tone.

She hated him when he did this, when he exposed her vulnerability while, at the same time, showing her his softer side. It was a maddening, rare, and beautiful moment.

And it usually ended with him punishing her for it, then them both, eventually, getting hurt.

She closed her eyes. "Don't do this."

She didn't beg, didn't cry; she didn't want to show him any weakness. She was just tired of getting her expectations up, only to have them to completely, go up in smoke.

He didn't say anything at first; he was digesting her words. He moved closer to her, so close, she could smell the bourbon on his breath. "Don't do what?" he asked, so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her skin. It sent a tingling sensation down her spine, causing her o shiver slightly.

"You're only going to make me pay for this later," she breathed, struggling to hold back the tide of emotions that were threatening to break through. She opened her eyes, and she looked deep into his. "I don't want to hurt anymore," she said softly, but firmly.

He was surprised by her words. "What do you...," he trailed off, frowning, trying to diagnose her. It took a few seconds, but the realization hit him. He processed this information, then he sighed. "I've never meant to hurt you," he told her, softly.

She shook her head. "Whether we meant to or not, we did." She sighed, leaning against the wall, the exhaustion of her long day finally sweeping over her. "I'm your boss; you're my employee. Let's just keep it at that."

He frowned, then he did something that neither of them expected. Without hesitation, he dropped the monitor, then clasped her upper arms. He lowered his face to hers, closing his eyes.

Then, he kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N - **_

_**So, I think I suck at the smut stuff, so I'll apologize for that ahead of time..., but I had to earn that "M" rating somehow, right???**_

_**Also, someone once asked in a review why I post in bold, so I thought I'd answer here in the Author's Note, in case anyone else was wondering...**_

_**It's pretty simple, actually. Reading the tiny font on computer screens gives me a headache sometimes. ( I don't actually have a hard time reading the font, it's the eyestrain that's the problem). I do wear glasses...sometimes...but the glare is still there. I actually write all my stories out in 14 pt. font. (Actually, I hand write my stories out in cheap Mead notebooks, then type them up. It's what takes me so long to post sometimes...). And it is the glare of the computer screen. I have no issue reading paper books with teeny tiny font. Anyway, I find the bold makes it easier for me to read... (hint hint to other authors ;-))**_

_**Anyway, that's the reason. Sorry if you don't like the bold, but hey, if you do, let me know! I'm actually curious to see if anyone else feels the same as me :-)**_

_**Now...on to the show!!!**_

_**~ Heat Wave ~**_

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**Then he kissed her.**

**Though his grip on her upper arms was tight, he kept the pressure he put on her lips feather light. It was a soft, tentative kiss. A kiss that reassured her that he didn't want to hurt her. That he wanted her.**

**He felt her tense up in his grasp, but, as soon as his lips brushed hers, she'd relaxed, melting in to him somewhat. "Oh," she moaned softly in surprise, then, he pulled back, leaving a hairsbreadth of room between them.**

**It had taken all his willpower not to deepen it, not to take advantage until he knew what she wanted. As much as he desired her, he wanted her to want him back. He didn't want convenience or circumstance to take the situation down a path of no return.**

**She felt his breath on her lips, but the warmth she'd felt in that fleeting moment they'd been pressed to hers was gone. Her face was still tilted up, and her neck was craned up towards him, trying to meet his lips again. She opened her eyes, wordlessly wondering why he'd stopped.**

**He wanted her. The image that had filled his mind many times over the past few years, the image of Lisa Cuddy, Goddess and Alpha Bitch of PPTH, sprawled underneath him, raven curls spread out around her regal face in a halo, flashed before his eyes. She was there, for the taking. His Valkyrie, his angel. All he had to do was say the word.**

**Unfortunately, the thoughts of self doubt that had always plagued him came flooding back in its wake, telling him he as unworthy of such a goddess, that he was unworthy of her touch, her caress. Unworthy of her love.**

"**I'm gonna screw this up." The words that spilled out of his mouth unchecked were simple, and, to him, true. He closed his eyes, and he turned his head away. "You were better off with Lucas," he whispered, harshly.**

**She froze, a sudden chill drifting down her spine. "You bastard," she hissed. She tried to pull away from him, her blood boiling, but whether it was from lust or anger, she couldn't tell. Hell, it was probably both. "Why do you pull this ####?" She felt the tears build up in her eyes, but she fought to keep them at bay. "Either you want me, or you don't." She balled up her hands into fists, hoping that would keep her from slapping him. "I can't take any of the games anymore."**

**He swallowed, his Adam's apple jumping. "I...don't want...to hurt you." He opened his eyes, drinking in her form, his hands gripping her upper arms tightly, afraid of letting go. "I'm...afraid," he admitted, very reluctantly, looking away.**

**She was silent for a moment, processing what he was saying, and not saying, then, she slowly unclenched her hands. She tentatively brought her hand gently to his cheek. She lightly cupped his cheek, feeling the bristles of his light beard tickle the palm of her hand. Lightly applying pressure, she turned his face towards her, forcing him to look at her.**

**They were quiet for a few seconds, then, she licked her lips. "I know," she told him. "I'm afraid, too. I've been afraid for a while," she admitted, softly. "And, you're right," she sighed. "We're probably going to screw this up." He jerked his head a little, giving her a puzzled look. "But," she continued, "it'll be fun while it lasts." A slow smile curved on her lips, and she rose up on her toes. Holding his cheek in her hand, she softly pressed her lips to his.**

**The kiss was tentative, testing, but he, soon took over, demanding something of her. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, cradling the back of his skull with one large hand, while the other trailed down her back to her ass. He smiled against her lips as he cupped the smooth, cotton clad cheek, squeezing it, slightly.**

**She yelped, and he took advantage of her open mouth, delving his tongue in deeply. She moaned deep into his throat as his tongue wickedly danced with hears. She gripped his shoulders tightly as he pressed her against the wall. A warm, liquid heat began to pool deep within her lower abdomen.**

**She tugged him down the hallway, brushing against wall until she felt the door knob to her room press against her back. She reached for the knob behind her back, unwilling to break the contact of their mouths. She twisted the knob, and they both lost their balance as the door burst open, falling through the door frame. They landed on the floor with a hard thud, Cuddy landing first, with House falling on top of her. The impact jarred her, and for a moment, they lay on the floor, panting.**

"**Are...you...okay?" she panted, shaking her head to move the strands that had fallen in her eyes.**

**He looked down at her. He'd instinctively twisted mid fall to land on his left side rather than his right, protecting his leg at all times. "I had no idea I'd be tripping over you to get into your panties." He gave her a lecherous grin, then he slid a calloused hand up her panty-hose covered thigh.**

**Just before he could kiss her again, a gurgling sound came over the baby monitor in her room, capturing her attention. She froze. "Shh," she hushed him, turning her head away from him and towards the monitor on her nightstand, listening intently.**

**Undaunted by her lack of attention towards him, his mouth found her neck, and he removed his hand from under her skirt. He smirked at the fact she'd not changed since she'd gotten home, and the little pearl buttons on her cream colored blouse demanded his attention. **

**He slowly began to undo the buttons, waiting for her to slap his hands away. When she didn't, he shifted slightly, kissing her neck as he opened her shirt, revealing the lace bra underneath. She glanced at him, pushing him away slightly as she tried to sit up. "She's not waking up," he growled, fingering the red lace.**

"**We shouldn't do this," she was beginning to have her doubts. "Rachel's here, and..."**

"**You're _now _doubting bringing home some strange?" He lifted an eyebrow, smirking slightly in a smug way, running a finger from the hollow of her throat to the valley between her breasts. His throat turning hoarse, he looked deep into her eyes. "I've thought about this for twenty years. You're even hotter now than you were in my dreams." His gaze turned intense. "I want you."**

**She felt her throat go dry, and she shivered at his touch. "In your dreams," she murmured, trying to break his hypnotic stare.**

"**I'd rather make it our reality." His mouth found hers again, and his hands cupped her lace covered breasts. Despite her words, she snaked a leg around him, pulling him closer to her, her hands roaming his back and head. He tore his mouth form hers, and he kissed down to the swells of her breasts, running his tongue across the sweet, salty skin. She arched upwards, and he reached around her, easily unhooking her bra with nimble fingers. He helped her remover her bra and shirt, and he broke the kiss, taking in her naked form. She tugged a the hem of his t-shirt, and he grinned, pulling he offending garment off. "Better?"**

**She shook her head in disbelief. "We shouldn't be doing this?" she moaned, as her hands roamed his bare skin, loving the feeling of the hot flesh underneath her palms.**

"**You keep saying that while dry humping me," he grunted, cupping her bare breasts in his hands. "Talk about sending mixed signals," he muttered. He flicked her already erect nipples with his thumbs. "Oh, god, Lisa," he moaned. "The girls are even better than I remember. I'm thinking you should set them free more often. How about a hospital wide Topless Tuesday?"**

**She tried to laugh, but it came out as a moan instead. "Just the thought of Douglass topless is enough to nix that idea."**

**House shuddered. "Does it bother you that your male chief of orthopedics has bigger tits than you do? Of course, we could make it female only." Before she could respond, he lowered his head, and he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it wetly.**

**Her mind went blank, and all she could think about was growing heat in her belly. She felt his hand slid down her side, then she heard a zipping noise. He pulled away from her nipple, then looked at the other breast, a sad expression on his face. "Patty'll have to wait for a moment," he pouted, then he shifted down on her body. **

**She shook her head as he removed her pantyhose. "This is wrong," she closed her eyes as he slipped the hose and skirt over her feet, leaving her naked. **

**He took a moment to drink in her body, then grinned as he ran his hands up the inside of her legs. "But, it's oh, so right."**

**He kissed the insides of her thighs, pushing them gently aside, making his way to the patch of raven curls at the juncture of her thighs. He slowly tasted her, licking the glistening wetness as he parted her lower lips with his tongue. She bucked her hips as his tongue explored the sensitive skin of her folds, and the intense heat became unbearable. He found the sensitive nub, and he slid a long, slender finger inside her, driving her into a frenzy. She knotted her fingers in her hair, bucking to the rhythm of his sucking.**

**The heat finally exploded, and she felt herself let go, the intense waves of pleasure pulsating out from her core. **

**She went limp, spent from intensity of her orgasm, and he took the opportunity to take off his jeans and boxers. Once naked, he kissed his way up her body, smiling as she lazily kissed him back once he reached her lips. "I'm that good, right?" he teased, smug from hearing her actually cry out his name. He was happy he shut the door after they fell through it. No noise came from the monitor, and he silently hoped it would stay that way for a while longer, at least. He'd waited a long time for this moment.**

"**You're...alright," she answered, smirking against his mouth, still wet from the juices of her orgasm. "I'd give you a seven."**

"**A seven," he teased, pulling away from her mouth, kissing up her jaw to her ear. "That was at least a nine." He nibbled on her ear, biting the cartilage gently. His hands found her breasts again, and he smirked as he found her nipples already responding to his touch. **

**She felt the heat return to her belly, and she shifted under him. Reaching between them, she found his velvety length pressing into her belly. She took him in her hands, stroking the suede-like texture of him lightly, causing him to groan. "I think you can earn a perfect score," she teased, running her thumb around the plump head, and he choked out a gasp in response. She then shifted again, guiding him to her already wet entrance.**

**He teased her wetness with the head, then, he had a thought. "Condom?" he asked, forcing himself not to drive into her, even though ever muscle in his body was screaming at him to do so."**

**She shook her head. "I'm clean," she clarified. "Can even show you the results, if you want. And I'm not likely to get pregnant anytime soon." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but he heard it. "Also, I know you're clean."**

**He frowned at her, "how...?"**

**She leaned up, and she kissed him. "After Joy...I thought, the time had finally come, and I wanted to be prepared...in case...something...happened," she trailed off.**

**He nodded, then kissed her deeply, driving himself deep into her slick pussy.**

**She took him all, and he knew she had to be uncomfortable. She was tight, oh so tight. The slightest shift was causing enough tension to make his balls tighten. He exhaled, and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on just not loosing it right then.**

**She squirmed a little. "Pretty sure you're supposed to be doing something," she panted. She was full, and she wanted to feel him. The sensations her womb was sending her was setting her on fire.**

"**Stop. It." He growled out between clenched teeth. "Unless you want me to blow my wad now." He opened his eyes. "Just thinking about you here. I'll be getting my rocks off either way."**

"**So, you're being purely altruistic?" She tried to roll her eyes, but he picked that moment to start thrusting. Gently at first. Long strokes that reached deep with in her, driving her mad at such a slow pace. He'd not been bragging; he was good, and he knew just how to touch her to send her close to the edge.**

**His thrusts soon quickened, and the liquid heat that was centered where the joined was threatening to consume her. She felt her lower abdominal muscles pulse, and the heat released. She gripped his back so tightly she was pretty sure her fingernails drew blood as she met his thrusts with equal force.**

**He felt her inner walls clench him tightly, and he closed his eyes, letting his the pressure that had built up in his balls release, and he grunted out his orgasm, slamming into her, feeling only urgent need and a bone deep pleasure.**

**Spent, he dropped to the side, and he closed his eyes, his arms wrapped around her tightly, on the floor of her bedroom, drifting off into a contented sleep.**


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N -_**

**_So, I told you I'd start posting again as soon as it was finished. This is just the next chapter. Thanks for your patience! I really appreciate it! :-)_**

**_As usual, I own nothing, DS is a lucky bastard, and I thank him for sharing his toys :-)_**

**_~ Chapter 5 ~_**

**_Cracks In The Ice_**

**She groggily came to her senses, and she was warm, despite laying on the floor. She listened to the vicious wind rattle the windows, and she shivered, involuntarily.**

**"Hey," his voice rumbled over her, deep and sleepily. "Stop squirming."**

**Her senses returned to her. "Did we..."**

**"Just have sex on your bedroom floor?" he finished for her, and she could hear the smugness in his voice. "Yes." She sat up and looked at him, wide-eyed. "I had no idea you wanted me that badly. I mean, I knew all those arguments in your office were just foreplay, but..."**

**"That was NOT foreplay," she retorted, stunned by her own actions. Refusing to act embarrassed in front of him, she boldly stood up, and she began to pick up all of her clothes.**

**"Good," he hopped up, gracefully for a man with a handicap. "You're floor's uncomfortable." He tugged on his boxers and jeans. "And cold."**

**She looked at a part of his anatomy pointedly. "Obviously not cold enough." The corners of his lips up into a slight smirk.**

**He lifted his eyebrows. "You're not complaining." He sat on the edge of the bed, and he watched her dress. "You are beautiful, you know," he said softly.**

**She froze in place as she pulled a large sweatshirt over her head. A part of her heart jumped for joy, but another part of was wrenched. She bit her lip. "Let's not," she paused, swallowing hard. "This," she sighed. "This can't happen."**

**The smirk disappeared from his lips. "It just did," he said softly. He looked down at his hands. "I've dreamed of doing that for a long time, you know." He looked up at her. "Since the last time."**

**She balled her hands into fists for a moment in frustration, then she sighed. "I'd thought you'd moved on from that," she said quietly.**

**He tilted his head to one side, watching her intently. "Seriously?" He stood up, moving over to her, standing inches away. He knew how to invade her personal space. How it made her nostrils flare and her breathing quicken. How she inhaled sharply and the interesting things it did to her chest. But mostly, he noticed how she liked it, and that she never tried to push him away. "I can't move away from you if I tried. I have this theory that you have a magnet that only attracts me implanted in that ass." Just for effect, he reached around her and squeezed on of the smooth, round cheeks, just for emphasis, loving the feel of it through the soft cotton of her yoga pants.**

**She gasped in surprise, and he took advantage of the moment, capturing her lips with his. It was a softer kiss than the ones they had just shared, and she felt his tongue wrap lazily around hers. He kept one hand firmly on her ass, pulling her towards him so that their bodies meshed. He slowly broke off the kiss, and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I can't get enough of you," he told her. "Especially that sexy ass."**

**She chuckled dryly. "Stop deflecting."**

**"Oh, this is much more than deflecting," he informed her. "This is out and out distraction." He lowered his head for another kiss.**

**"House," she began, finding herself distracted by his attentions. "We need to talk about this..." His hand had began to roam underneath the old sweatshirt, and he caressed the smooth skin of her back.**

**He nuzzled her, kissing the corner of her mouth. "We do?" he asked.**

**She stepped back, trying to escape his embrace. "Yes, we do."**

**He stumbled back on the bed, pouting mildly. "Why?" he asked, bouncing backward on the comforter, then stretching out. "Your bed is comfy," he observed, closing his eyes.**

**Sighing, she sat down at the foot, next to his where his knees bent over the edge. "Glad you think so," she said, dryly. "I bought it just to impress you."**

**"Seriously?" he lifted his head up to look at her.**

**"You're an idiot," she rolled her eyes, half smirking, but her eyes were serious.**

**He lifted himself up on his elbows, watching her. "Are you having regrets? Again?" The words were said with a smirk, but the truth was there.**

**"Yes. No. I don't know." She threw her hands up in frustration.**

**"Those are three different answers," he observed, his tone wry.**

**"Thanks for that stunning report," she grumbled, laying back with him, staring at the patterns in the textured ceiling. The truth was, she _didn't_ know, and that frustrated her. Did she regret having sex with him? Not at the moment, but she was sure he'd make her regret it at some point in time. Did she regret having feelings for him? Not really. The had been friends for a very long time. Could she be in an established relationship with him? Doubtful. They were two of the most stubborn, pig headed people she knew. It had to end in flames. And possible jail time.**

**She finally sighed. "I didn't have regrets the first time," she said quietly. She turned her head to look at him. "I was hurt. Badly hurt. I'd sucked at relationships before, but," she closed her eyes. "But, I really thought you cared about me. I thought I was in love." She rolled her shoulders up in a shrug. "Then, you left." She became quiet.**

**"I had too," his eyes were focused on the same pattern in the ceiling. "The Dean kicked me out,"**

**"Don't give me excuses," the old hurt reared its ugly head. "Please. I sat by the phone all day the next day. You said you'd call. You never called," unbidden tears stung her eyes.**

**He turned his head to her, silent for a long time. "I'm not going to apologize, and I'm not going to make excuses," he said slowly. "But, I'm going to tell you right now, I thought about you. All the time. For a long time."**

**She shook her head, sitting up. "Don't. Please, just don't."**

**He sat up with her, tentatively extending a hand. He gently touched her face, putting just enough pressure on her chin to turn her head towards him. "I'm an ass, Lisa. And I've done enough stupid and mean things to have regrets to last me at least another four or five lifetimes. But I've never regretted seducing you. You picked me. I don't know why. I don't know how. I don't care. This is probably gonna crash and burn, but I'm gonna enjoy it while I can. Even if it just lasts the night." She choked out a sob, and he smirked at her. "Besides, I haven't gotten any in a while, and you're a sweet piece of ass. Will you make an old, miserable cripple happy for a night?" He gently brushed away a tear as it ran done her cheek.**

**"You are an ass," she sniffed. "What about Rachel?"**

**"What about her?" he frowned, curious. "She's yours. As long as I don't have to change any diapers, or put up with anymore baby barf on my blazers, I don't care." He shrugged. "I'm not going to go out of my way for her, Lisa. Sorry, but I'm not."**

**Cuddy nodded. Him not resenting her would have to be enough. It was a big enough step that he wasn't going to let her get in his way. "Okay."**

**"Okay?" His brows lifted. "Seriously? Does that mean I get a night of free nookie?"**

**She laughed. Out loud. He could be such a teenager, at times. "A night of free nookie," she agreed. "After that, you might have to spring for a dinner or two."**

**"What?" he pulled her in his arms, and he drug her to the mattress. Looming over her, he pouted. "You can't just give out free samples, then charge for more. That's not fair."**

**"Why?" she leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips. "Crack dealers do it all the time?"**

**"You're comparing your love making to crack?" He shook his head. "You're good, but you're not that good."**

**She laughed, kissing him softly. Outside, the howling wind blew the snow into even deeper drifts and rattled the windows. A few blocks away, an ice coated power line snapped, descending the city into darkness. The lights in the house flickered, than extinguished, sending them into darkness. She pulled her lips away from his, and she smirked in the dark. "Yes," she laughed. "I really _am_ that good."**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N - **_

_**Okay, next chapter's up. Not for the kiddies, or those who have heart conditions, or are on certain medications. I am not responsible for fainting, drooling, or hot flashes.**_

_**Hope you like it!**_

_**As always, I own nothing, but I thank TPTB for sharing their toys!**_

_**~ Thaw ~**_

House was a very good kisser. Sweet kisses, soft kisses, sloppy kisses, wet kisses, it didn't matter. She lay in the dark bedroom, testing his ability to kiss. She squirmed underneath his body, running her hands over the bunched muscles in his back and shoulders. She felt him shudder slightly as she gently raked her nails over the heated skin, and he deepened his kiss, sucking her tongue softly.

She moaned, and he caught it deep in his throat. She arched up against against him, and he slid his hand under the hem of her sweatshirt. He caressed the smooth, soft skin there, running his fingers up her spine. She writhed under his ministrations, and he pulled back just enough to pull her sweatshirt off. She hadn't put a bra back on, and she gasped a little as the cold air hit her nipples, causing them to tighten.

He chuckled, and he cupped one of her breasts in his calloused hand, with the other stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in the silky strands. He lowered his head, and he began to noisily suckle her exposed breast. She moaned, bucking against his jean-clad hips, and he could feel the blood rush to his groin, leaving him dizzy. "Easy there," he hissed, pulling his mouth away from her nipple. "I'm an old man," he whispered, his hot breath teasing her already sensitive nipple.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, kissing along his jaw, feeling the wiry hairs underneath her lips. "I'm just taking advantage of this while I can," she murmured, making her way down his throat. He continued to tease her nipples with his fingers, smirking at her comment. She snaked a hand down between their bodies, until she found what she was looking for.

"I feel sooo," he trailed off and gasped as she ran her fingers up and down the growing ridge of his penis through his jeans. "Jesus!" he groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips into her hands.

She stroked him gently through his fly, rubbing him through the heavy denim. "You feel so what?" she purred, rubbing her chest against the soft fur of his chest, smirking softly.

"Two can play at this game," he growled to her, rolling off of her and on to his side. The power was still out, and her bedroom was completely black. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see her eyes glittering with lust and mischief. He slipped a hand into the hem of her yoga pants, grinning in the dark as he realized she hadn't put underwear back on, either. "I could get used to you going commando," he sighed happily as his fingers began to tease the already damp curls at the junction of her thighs.

She chuckled. "I'll make sure I'll put that idea right up there with your 'Topless Tuesday' idea." She was about to tease him more, but he slipped a long finger into her damp cleft, teasing the swelling bud with his thumb. She gasped as he teased her entrance with a long finger. Her grip on his shaft tightened as she bucked against his hand, causing him to grunt.

"Easy," he closed his eyes, his breathing becoming ragged. "Little Greg does NOT like bruises." He continued to flutter his fingers, feeling her sweetness coat his fingers as she grew closer to the edge. She continued to stroke his ridge, and he finally reached down, and unbuttoned his fly. "I'd rather not come in my jeans," he grunted.

She gripped his shoulders, a low moan filling the air as the bucking of her hips reached a crescendo. "God, fuck. FUCK!" The words escaped her lips through her pants. He felt a fresh wave of fluid slip over his fingers. He pulled them out of her, and he tugged at her pants, trying to get them off.

"Another round?" she groaned.

"Yeah," he muttered, tugging off his own jeans, allowing his erection to be set free. He pushed them down, then, he encircled her waist, drawing her on top of them. "Little Greg'd like some pussy action," he groaned, drawing her head down for a kiss.

She scooted back, snuggling him between her thighs. He could feel the dampness from her previous orgasm on the head of his penis, and he groaned, softly. She toyed with his chest, lightly tweaking the flat nipples. "I don't think he's ready for some," she lightly cleared her throat, "_pussy action._"

He growled, and he seized her hips. "Stop teasing me, woman," he grunted. She smirked at him, but gently guided his cock into her tight clench. "Ah, shit. Dammit. Fuck." he choked out, his grip on her hips tightening with every curse and thrust.

She gripped the headboard for balance, chuckling at him as he filled her. "Are you sure you don't have Tourette's?" she hissed, rocking her hips against his groin.

He lifted his head, and he nuzzled her hardened nipple. "You, wish," he breathed, causing her to moan and rock even harder against him. The friction was becoming to much, and it became hard for him to focus on conversation. He slipped a hand between them where their bodies' merged, and he rubbed the swollen nub between her slick lips. She made a low keening sound of pleasure, and her body began to clench him tightly. He groaned, then thrust up hard, his orgasm pulsing through him.

She slipped off of him, dropping to her side. He rolled over, and he spooned her from behind. She sighed, happily, and wiggled up against him. "I never took you to be a cuddler," she closed her eyes, smiling softly.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," he murmured against her dark hair, kissing the fragrant waves softly. The heavy musk of their lovemaking hung in the room, making him sleepy.

She sighed, and he wrapped the heavy comforter around them. "I wish you had Tourette's. Or Asberger's. Or some other syndrome that would help aide you against the Board," she admitted, softly as he wrapped his arms around her.

"The Board giving you hell again?"

"Bill," came the one word reply. "He's looking for any excuse to get rid of both of us," she informed him.

"Not gonna happen," he told her, confidently.

She snorted. "I wish I had your faith."

"It's not faith," he told her. "I watched you stand up to Vogler, and not even blink." He swallowed, remembering that rough time. "You never gave in to Tritter, even though he made your life a living hell." His voice grew thick as he stroked her flank, his fingers tap dancing down her leg. "You committed perjury to keep my sorry ass out of jail. You..."

She took his hand in hers. "You've made your point," she told him, smiling, but she didn't turn around. "You've also made me realize how much you owe me," she told him, sweetly.

"Yeah, you cashed that out when you dated Lucas," he snuggled closer against her. He breathed into her ear, his tone teasing. "I can't believe you were that desperate," he teased.

"The same could be said about me being with you," she squeezed his hand tightly. "Actually, everyone will think I've lost my mind. Oh, and if anyone finds out, your testicles will be hanging from my rearview mirror," she informed him.

"Eep," he squeeked out. "Do NOT say things like that in front of Little Greg," he chastised her. "He has sensitive ears, ya know."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean it. The last thing I want anyone to know is that..._this_...happened."

"Trust me," he muttered, "I know you mean it." He nibbled at her ear. "You are the leading cause of both erections and shrinkage at the hospital. Everyone can't figure out if you want to fuck them, or castrate them," he teased. She sighed heavily, and he changed his tone. "Are you still having second thoughts?"

"Yes," she admitted. "This is insane, and it won't end well," she muttered.

"Yeah, but you know, with me, it'll never be boring." He kissed her cheek, squeezing her hand back, reassuringly.

She closed her eyes, and for a while, she laid in the dark, listening as his breathing became deeper, and much more regular. Soon, she heard his snores echo in her ear. The sound was reassuring, and she fell asleep, still holding his hand, smiling contentedly.


	7. Chapter 7

_**~ Frostbite ~**_

– – – – – – – – – – – –

**House wished he could sleep through the night. Just once, especially this night. But, pain reared it's ugly head. His eyes opened wide, and it was all he could do not to curl up in a ball and cry. **

**He was spooned up against her bare back, one arm curled underneath his own head, the other draped across her body. Their legs were intertwined together. With a self control he didn't know he had, he disentangled himself from her limbs, leaving her snoring softly on the bed, then he limped out of the room. **

**It was cold in the living room. He had been happily warm underneath the comforter on the bed, and the chilly air caused his thigh to spasm even more. He sat down heavily on the couch, rubbing his leg, letting out hissing breaths of frustration as he worked the seizing muscle, trying to loosing it. It had been a nightly ritual for nearly a decade.**

**He tried not to wake them; he really didn't want them to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, hunched over and wracked with pain. Tears of frustration stung his eyes as he drove the heel of his hand over and over the damaged muscle, trying to rub out the pain.**

**He paced a circle around her living room, and when the cramping became intense, he fell back on her couch, his chest rising and falling heavily. He closed his eyes, and he tried to massage the agony away, but it seemed to latch on to his nerves like a pit bull, not letting go.**

**He was so wrapped up in the intense ache, that he had failed to notice that she was standing in the doorway of the living room, watching him. She licked her lips. She had known that he had chronic pain; hell, the entire hospital was well aware of that fact, but she hadn't know just how bad it was. **

**She watched him, grunting softly as he attempted to rub the ache out of his leg, hunched over. The back muscles that she had caressed so lovingly just a mere few hours before had become tense and bunched with pain. **

**She bit her lip, trying to draw up the courage to walk over to him, to give him comfort, but her feet had turned into lead weights. She stood there, rooted to the carpet in the hall, watching him, her own eyes filling with tears.**

**No!, she screamed at herself. She would not allow herself to pity him. He didn't want it, nor did he deserve it. He just wanted to be perceived as a "normal" man. She blinked back the tears, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. She reached up, and she wiped her wet cheeks, watching him.**

**He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he twisted around. He let out a hiss of surprise when he saw her there, and he quickly stood up. Unfortunately, his leg wouldn't support him, and it cramped up, causing him to fall back to the couch. "Dammit!" he cried, feeling the heat of her stare there. "Go away," he hissed through clenched teeth. **

"**To where, Greg?" she asked softly. Was that pity he heard. His lips curled up in a snarl, and he was ready to let loose a bitingly cruel remark, when she approached him. She held out a bottle of pills with one hand, while nervously playing with the sash on her silk robe with the other. "You left these in the bedroom," she whispered softly. "Come back to bed when you can." **

**She turned to leave him alone with his demons, but he darted out his hand. He gripped her forearm tightly, so tight, that she was sure she would have bruises the next day. "Stay," he choked out. "I don't wanna be alone." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to do this, alone."**

**She was startled at his admission. She didn't say a word, but she moved to the opposite end of the couch, and she curled up by the arm, tucking her feet beneath her. She didn't avert her eyes from him as he popped the cap open on his pill bottle, shaking the capsules out into his hand. He dry swallowed the pills, then leaned his head back on the couch, still rubbing his thigh. **

**The sky had lightened slightly, but there was no bright orange light. Thick white flakes still fell outside her windows, burying the world outside, and they sat in silence, waiting for the other to speak first. She shivered slightly, drawing the robe around her even more tightly than before. He seemed oblivious to the cold, sitting in nothing but what god gave him, rubbing his thigh, though almost absently. His brow was creased in thought. "Why?" he finally asked.**

**She tilted her head to the side, confused. "Why what?"**

**He frowned. "Why me. Why not Lucas? Why do you want an old, crippled bastard like me." He finally looked at her, his eyes piercingly blue in the gray light. "I'm just going to hurt you."**

**She rubbed absently at her arm, where he had gripped her so tightly the night before. "You have hurt me," she said softly. "You've hurt me with the word's you've said in the past. When you told me I'd suck at being a mother. All your comments about me not being a real doctor." She took a deep breath. "Your actions after I agreed to foster Rachel." She closed her eyes. "Your words, that night. In my office. Before..." she trailed off, looking away.**

**The silence that filled the room was thick. He stared at her for a long time, letting her words sink in. He HAD hurt her, more times than he wanted to admit. His words hadn't left physical scars, but he could see the small emotional ones he had caused. They were there, in her eyes, and he could see them every time she looked at him. He licked his lips. "I'm not going to apologize for all the things I've said," he mumbled, his voice hoarse. She opened her eyes, watching him. "I'm not gonna promise that it's not gonna happen again, it probably will." He admitted, softly.**

**She stared at him, feeling like the couch was a gulf separating them. "You know why I dated Lucas?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from him. "After you were released," she began, hesitantly, not waiting for his reaction. "After you came back, and quit, when you told me," she smiled sadly. "When I came to your apartment, and, you told me that," she inhaled. "That I wasn't the reason you quit."**

**He stared at her, "Yes? You weren't."**

"**I know, but...I realized I was trapped in a game you wanted out of," she sudden found a frayed thread on her robe fascinating. "Lucas had been making advances for months. Offering to baby-sit Rachel. Bringing me dinner." She couldn't look up. "He was there for me."**

**He stared at her classic profile. Not for the first time, he was reminded of the Greek goddess. Not Aphrodite, she was much to bold, too wise. Athena, maybe. Goddess of Wisdom. "I wasn't," he admitted, sadly. "And I can't promise you that..."**

**She lifted her eyes to his. "I know." She shook her head. "I shouldn't love you," she sighed. "but I do. I know it's gonna hurt more than it's gonna be good. I know that you're not going to be there when I need you the most. But you're then one I want. You're what I need."**

**He smiled, sadly. "As long as you don't have any expectations," he began, and she scooted closer to him. He drew her into a tight, one armed embrace, and she nestled her head against his chest. "Thank you," he whispered, softly kissing her dark hair.**

"**You're welcome," she whispered to his chest. At that moment, the power kicked back on, the ****television blaring through the living room, startling them both. Rachel began wailing at the sudden noise, letting them both know she was awake.**

**House scowled at the noise, and he growled as Cuddy got up, "her timing sucks."**

**She gave him a little grin, then went down the hall to tend to her daughter, leaving him to think about her words.**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight - Spring Rain**_

Greg House wound up spending most of the morning wrapped up in the heavy, floral patterned comforter on Cuddy's bed. After such a late night, and one of the worst bouts of leg pain he'd had in a while, he snuggled in, and stayed there. He'd gone back to bed while she went through her morning routine of getting Rachel up and ready.. He slept through breakfast, and Rachel's impromptu concert while banging on some plastic Tupperware containers. Cuddy had wisely decided to give those to Rachel instead of the pots and pans she had wanted.

Around noon, she decided to damn his sleep and finally take a shower. She fed Rachel a quick lunch of pasta and strained vegetables, happy that her daughter was eating solid foods. She loved the wheel shaped pasta, picking up each individual piece and eating it separately. For dessert, she had a cup of applesauce, which made for a messy time.

After lunch, she cleaned the food off of Rachel, and she changed her diaper. Rachel had grown so fast in the past year. Cuddy had worried about developmental difficulties, but Rachel wasn't showing any obvious ones. In fact, other than a milk and nut allergy, she didn't even seem to have any problems at all. Cuddy smiled, knowing that they weren't totally out of the woods yet. Lost in her thoughts, she put Rachel down for her nap.

Once the little girl was asleep, which her daughter fought against valiantly, she slipped into the bedroom, picking out some relaxation clothes. Wilson had called her from the hospital earlier that morning, practically begging her not to even try to come in. Once glance out her living room window had convinced her that going to work was just a fantasy. Everything was covered in white. The cars in the road didn't even look like cars, they looked like marshmallow covered puffs. The drifts that had formed against her house topped five feet, easily, and she guessed that they probably had gotten at least eighteen inches of the thick, white fluff, if not two feet. The road didn't even look like it had been plowed after she had gotten home the night before.

House hadn't even stirred as she crossed the room toward the master bath. She put the neatly folded clothes on the large expanse of cream colored marble counter top, and she began to strip out of her pajamas. She took her hair out of the tail she had tied it back in after Rachel woke up. She had learned not to keep her hair down around Rachel unless she wanted it pulled on by a very strong 15 month old. She had removed her jewelry the night before, so she started the shower.

She stepped inside it as soon as it hit the right temperature. She had been so happy that the power had come back on. She had a back up generator in the garage for the big stuff, like the refrigerator and stove, and she had a fireplace for heat, but nothing that ran the water heater. She hoped that the power wouldn't go out again.

The hot water felt soothing, and she realized just how sore she was. Sex with Greg House was an adventure; it was amazing. She closed her eyes, and she let the water pour over her, her body relaxing in the steam. Her fingers trailed down her abdomen, her palm pressing against her womb. She felt...full. Satisfied. It was a good feeling.

She poured a small dollop of her lavender scented shampoo into her palm, and she worked the soap into her hair, massaging her scalp. She hadn't realized how tense she was, so she decided to do the best to relax. The scent washed over her, and she inhaled deeply, smiling and closing her eyes. It reminded her of spring

She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the shower curtain being tugged back until the chillier air hit her. She whirled around, and there was Greg House, in all of his glory. Literally.

She made a soft mewing sound as he crowded in the shower; he took up so much space. It was a good thing that she wasn't claustrophobic. She saw the arousal in his eyes turn his irises a darker shade of blue, and his pupils started to dilate as he took in her naked form. She felt her skin heat up, and she was pretty sure it wasn't from the water, as he slowly gazed over her. She had never wanted a towel more in her life. Unfortunately, it seemed that her feet were rooted to the porcelain bottom of the tub.

"Turn around," he told her, his voice husky and hoarse. Closing her eyes, she did as he commanded. She felt her breathing quicken, her mind going through several fantasies within a few seconds. She felt the power of his presence directly behind her, even though he wasn't even touching her. It was overwhelmingly exhilarating.

She waited for him to touch her. She was quivering, addicted to the feeling that she had when he would run his calloused fingers up and down her skin. She bit her lip; she had become an addict in one night. Two nights, if she thought about it. He hadn't lost any of his prowess since college. If it was possible, he'd become better, so attuned to her body, her needs. He was worse, or better, than heroin, crack, or any man made drug on the market.

Just the thought of what she thought he was preparing to do made her a drooling, convulsing mess.

Which meant she was very surprised when he began by running his fingers through her hair.

She jumped a little, and she heard a chuckle from behind her. "As beautiful as you are," he told her, his lips mere inches from her ear, "shower sex has been off the menu since the Surgery." Surgery. Capital 's'. Even she knew what he meant by that. The infarction. The turning point in his adult life.

Her belly twinged with guilt. She'd been there, and she'd seen the aftermath. She'd seen what had happened to him, how he'd retreated from life, becoming the miserable misanthrope he was. Or was he. Here he was, standing in her shower, finger combing her hair with one hand, massaging her neck with the other.

She opened her eyes, and she watched him reach out and pull the purple conditioner bottle from the little rack she had in the corner of the shower. "You've already used the shampoo," it wasn't a question. "I can smell it in your hair." She heard the little hiss the plastic bottle gave as he emptied some on his hand. At least, she figured it was his hand. Her thoughts were proven right after he set the bottle next to its mate, then he began to massage her hair.

She could die right there and be happy. As good as he was with his fingers in other ways, the feel of him massaging the heavy waves of hair caused her scalp to tingle, as well as other places. It went on for long minutes, and she enjoyed ever bit of it. "Rinse," he told her, his voice husky. She did as she was told, closing her eyes and running her fingers through her hair. It didn't feel anywhere as good as House, she sadly noted. She opened her eyes, Wanting to watch him him. Wanting to see what he was doing. He found her lufa, and he poured some of her matching lavender scented body wash onto the puff. He dexterously worked the puff into a lather, then he began to wash her skin.

She had never felt any more beautiful, as he gently scrubbed her body. Her flesh heated after every touch, and from the tense way he held the puff, he was having difficulties keeping control. She was afraid to turn and look down, knowing what she'd see if she did.

He was agonizingly slow as his hands made their way down her body. He started at her shoulders and neck, gently massaging her skin until she felt relaxed and nearly boneless. He slid the puff down the valley of her spine, working his way to her hips. He fought the urge to cup the smooth globes of her cheeks, enjoying running the sponge over it and down her thighs.

He knelt down with some difficulty, and he began to wash her legs, stopping just at the junction between her thighs. He wanted to open those thighs just a little more, so kiss the junction there until he had her whimpering for more. To stand up, and take her from behind, knowing how tight and hot and wet she would be. Damn his mangled thigh; he couldn't. He couldn't stand being in this position for much longer. So, he quickly worked his way down her calves, wondering if she was as turned on as he was.

"Turn around," he regained his voice. She did as he asked, and he looked up at her. Her eyes were wide with arousal, the pupils so dilated they nearly blotted out the gray irises. He gave her a little smirk, then he continued to worship her body like the goddess that she was.

She adverted her eyes as he stood up, not wanting to cause him any humiliation with his struggle. The flew open when he began to lavish attention on her breasts. She started to lift her arms to encircle his neck, but he shook his head. "Let me do this," he whispered, teasing the slick orbs with his calloused palms, flicking the pert nipples with his thumbs. She felt the wet heat of arousal settle into her womb, and her breathing became ragged. She couldn't help it anymore. She rose up on her tiptoes, still under the hot spray of the shower nozzle, and she found his mouth, wet, hot, and wanting.

Their tongues danced a slow dance around each other, and her hands caressed the heated skin on his back. His hands continued to palm her breasts, teasing and playing with the round flesh. She whimpered softly, rubbing against him, feeling the strain of him against her belly. He slipped a hand down between them, creating a path of scorching heat down her abdomen. She moaned as he cupped her intimately, combing through the small thicket of dark curls. Her whimpers turned moans, and she rubbed against his hand, widening her legs slightly for him. He smiled against her lips, then, he slid a long finger into the slick heat.

She keened and rocked against him as he teased her, kissed her. She found herself being pressed against the shower wall, the water pouring over them both. She curled a leg around his good calf, using the tiled wall for support. He continued to rub her breast, pinching the nipple, and he slipped another finger into her tight little box. She clawed at his back, begging for release, her moans and pants filling his mouth. He gave it to her by rubbing her swollen little bud with the pad of his thumb, while dropping his mouth to her other nipple.

She screamed her release, rocking against his palm. Her cries echoed loudly in the small confines of the shower, and he felt a smug, cave-man like rise of pride as he watched her small frame writhe with convulsions. He waited until she went limp, clinging to him while using the wall for support to whisper into her ear, "You know, you really need to learn how to relax."

She looked up at him, forcing her eyelids open. She felt the twinge of the aftershocks of her orgasm burst through her, and she tried to ignore them, instead, focusing on the smug bastard in front of her. Gaining her equilibrium, she took the puff out of his hand. She looked pointedly at his hardness, "I'm not the only one," she purred. The grin he gave her was pure lust, but it soon faded as she began to wash him. "I'm gonna smell like a girl," he whined, pouting a little.

"Stop being such a child," she smirked, washing the strong muscles of chest and arms. "I know you like this. She moved lower, washing his abdomen. She heard his breathing grow short as she washed lower, but she avoided that part of him, instead, she knelt down and washed his thighs and ankles.

He inhaled sharply as she bi-passed the scar marring his right thigh. She washed around it, and he could feel her hands shake slightly as she struggled to maintain the same agonizingly slow, teasing pace. He could hear her let out the breath she had been holding as she moved down past his knee, and he relaxed, enjoying her ministrations.

However, his eyes flew open when he felt her long, thin fingers on him. He looked down, and he watched her, on her knees in front of him, lightly stroking him. He was half-hard, and the scorching feel of her fingers caused him to stand at full attention. His eyes grew wide, and he could feel his testicles tighten as she licked her lips a few inches away from his hard shaft.

He was still surprised at the feeling of her warm, wet mouth when she took him into it.

He planted a hand on the shower wall, the water growing cool, but he didn't care. All his mind was focused on were the feelings sent by the nerve endings in his dick, and right now, they were all pleasant. His breathing grew ragged as he felt her tongue tickle the underside of his cock, and the feeling of her warm lips sucking on him. He threaded his fingers through her wet hair, fighting the orgasm he felt coming way too soon.

And then she hummed.

He couldn't help it, he felt the muscles in his groin tighten, and he exploded, little stars going off behind his eye lids. He let out an incoherent cry of triumph, then he opened his eyes and looked down. She swallowed, and she raised her eyes to meet his while licking the last drops of semen from the end of his cock. If he were eighteen, with a hair trigger, he'd have gotten up again immediately, the scene was so erotic.

Unfortunately, he was fifty, and three times in less than 24 hours had cause Little Greg to wave a white flag of surrender.

She rose to her feet, sliding her slick body along his. He gave her a soft kiss, then grinned. "You're turning blue," he told her, pulling her close to his chest. "I think we should both get dressed and get warm," he nuzzled her hair.

"I never thought that _you'd_ be telling me to get _into_ clothes," she teased, turning off the water.

He held the shower curtain open for her. "I guess there's a first time for everything."


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N -_**

**_Sorry it's taking me so long to update. I'm having serious internet issues, and it won't be fixed until next week. Thanks for bearing with me; here's the next chapter. :-)_**

**_Enjoy!  
_**

_**Chapter Nine**_

_**Thin Ice**_

**House stretched out on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, and he watched Cuddy dry off. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, and she could almost laugh. She had never thought she would see the day where that man would be laying on her bed, looking smug and content. **

**A lot had happened in the past 24 hours, and there were going to be repercussions. She knew that, and she knew that he knew that. She was happy they hadn't ruined the moment yet, but it was coming. She reached into her underwear drawer, frowning. She knew she shouldn't have any expectations, but, still, she wouldn't mind seeing them trying to make this work. To see if it even could work.**

**Too bad they couldn't define what this is. Or was.**

**She frowned at the thought. Was this anything, except a wonderful one night stand. She sucked in a breath as she pulled a sweater over her head. She glanced at the prone figure on her bed, and he was looking at her with an intensity that she felt to her bones.**

"**Do you have to do that?" he asked, folding his arms behind his head. He frowned, then reached up, pulling one of her pillows down. He adjusted it, then leaned back, and he resumed his position. He gave her a wry smirk of superiority.**

**She raised her eyebrows. "Do what?" she asked, running a brush through her wet hair. She thought about blow drying it, she sat down at her vanity, and she watched him from the mirror. She could see his wide shoulders, and light sprinkling of salt and pepper hair on his chest. The white towel rode up his thighs, revealing the thick scar as long as her hand that ran parallel to the femur. She blinked, trying to swallow that guilt that accompanied that scar.**

"**What you always do," his voice broke her thoughts. "Over-analyze." He rose up on his elbows to watch her, his head tilted in interest, like he was reading her thoughts. "You're wondering what this is, and if it was a mistake. You're mildly ashamed of letting your guard down." She tried to keep her face passive; there was a reason she was good at poker. He saw through her bluff. "You don't want to be happy."**

**She tossed her heavy, still wet hair back, and she straightened her shoulders. "You don't even know what happiness is," she shot back.**

"**I know what misery is," he said quietly, his eyes growing a shade darker. They did that, when he was being honest and vulnerable. **

**She gave him a pensive look. "I'm just not raising my expectations," she sighed, looking in the mirror, but still focusing on him.**

"**So," his voice resuming it's usual level of noisy-ness, "what happened between you and the boyfriend formerly known as Lucas?"**

"**That's...none of your business," she informed him, pulling at the tangles that plagued her hair. She normally spent nearly an hour blow drying and straightening the wayward curls. **

"**He's the guy that had an all access pass backstage before me," he told her, keeping a tone of superiority in his voice. "That makes it my business. What if he infected you..."**

"**I do NOT have an STD," she snarled, indignant at the accusation.**

"**...with a parasite that will grow up to be bosom buddies with your non-love child child." His tone was light, but there was a heaviness behind his words that she heard. A thinly veiled note of jealousy.**

**She pursed her lips, putting the hair brush down on the glass top. She felt her shoulders sag a little, suddenly very weary. "There's not much of a chance of that happening, either," she said, very softly.**

"**So? Is that why Lucas went by the way side?"**

**She shook her head. "Lucas was...great." She glanced over her shoulder at him, not surprised to see an inquisitive look on his face. "He really was. He was everything I could have asked for. He was supportive. He loved Rachel. He was...nice." She paused, playing with a hair clip.**

"**He was boring."**

**She looked up at House, then slowly nodded. "He was. At first, he was fun, and god knows I needed someone to lean on, especially after what had happened..." She trailed off. She didn't want to remind him of what had happened over the summer. How he had finally bottomed out, after figuring that his life really couldn't get much worse, until it did.**

**She had felt abandoned and helpless. Lucas had been a rock she could lean on, but, in her life, she never felt helpless for long, and she had rebounded back quickly. She had tried to make it work. Tried to make it seem like they were a perfect, happy couple.**

**Unfortunately, nothing was perfect, and the facade had cracks. She hadn't been enthused when Wilson had bought the loft she had been looking at possibly buying, but she was less enthused with Lucas' choice of retaliation. She had been avoiding House, afraid that he was still unstable, not that he was ever a stable person, but she felt like he was still fragile.**

**Yet, she was the one who felt like she was made of glass.**

**She sighed, and she gave him an apologetic look. She gave her a wry grin, like she had given him just what he had wanted with that information. She glanced over his towel clad body once more, her eyes lingering on his crotch. Despite what she had felt about Lucas, there was no doubt who was better in bed. "Are you going to get dressed?" she wondered, suddenly feeling self conscious about wearing clothes, especially when he wore that damn white towel so well.**

"**Do I have to, mom," he whined, sitting up. The towel fell even farther down his hips, barely keeping him covered. He winked at her, noticing where her attention was.**

**She snapped her head up. "Yes, you have to."**

**He hopped up, supporting his leg with one hand, while grasping the towel with the other. He picked up his jeans, then took a whiff. He screwed up his face, as if grossed out by the smell. "They're groady," he whined. **

**She walked over, and she jerked the clothes out of his hands. "I don't have anything that will fit you," she informed him. "I can put them in the dryer with a dryer sheet for a couple of minutes, but that's as good as it's gonna get." She gave him a wry look. "You'll have to stay in here until they're done. "**

**She walked out the room, leaving him holding the towel. She ducked her head in Rachel's room, and she found the little girl staring at the ceiling, babbling happily to herself. At least she didn't wake up crying, she thought to herself. She tossed the clothes into the dryer, and she set the timer. She was just trying to freshen them, since House was being a pain. She smiled at the thought.**

**Then, her smile faded. She headed back to Rachel's room, and not for the first time since coming home the night before, she thought, what on earth am I getting myself into.**


	10. Chapter 10

_**~ Chapter Ten ~  
Frozen In Time**_

The snow finally stopped around dusk. The thick fall of fluffy flakes had trickled down into a sporadic dusting of tiny white dots. House had spent the afternoon watching Cuddy interact with Rachel. He knew she was on edge; she wasn't used to having him around. He sat on the couch, and he channel surfed while Rachel played. Cuddy would sit next to him, then get up, then sit down again.

"You're making me dizzy, jumping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean," he finally snorted, turning off the T.V.

She sat back down on the couch, wringing her hands. "I'm just not used to having nothing to do," she sighed. "Usually, I'm still at the office, or on the phone." She ran her fingers through her hair. "There's just so much to do, and here I am. Stuck."

He leaned back against the back of the couch, lounging. "You should try doing nothing. It's great, trust me." He gave her a little wink, and she rolled her eyes. Her cell phone began to beep, and he watched as she launched herself at it, taking it into another room. He watched the little round-faced girl watched her mother as Cuddy left the room, her dark eyes wide. "Get used to it kid. You're mother's a great business woman. Unfortunately, that means you'll be left in the dust every once in a while." The little girl swiveled her head around, and she eyed the tall, rangy strange man on the sofa. After a moment, she turned back to her toys, muttering happily to herself.

Cuddy came back into the room a few minutes later, and she slumped on the couch. He didn't take his eyes from the hockey game on T.V., but he did raise his eyebrows in question. She frowned, then sighed. "Wilson was letting me know that everything was fine at the hospital. No emergencies, no insane doctors performing dangerous and possible illegal procedures," she gave him a pointed look, and he had to struggle from grinning. "It has been difficult for the EMT's to get in and out, but now that the storm's slacking, the city has begun to plow. It might be another few days before everyone's dug out."

He pondered her words, then he jerked his head in a short nod. "Guess I'm staying here, then." He propped his feet up on the coffee table, and he put his hands behind his head. "Good thing your couch is comfy."

She glared at him. "I'm glad you find my place suitable."

He grinned at her. "It's adequate." Rachel began hammering her blocks together. "Too bad the brat has to ruin the scenery."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, then glanced at the clock. "It's time for her dinner, anyway." She started to get up, but he darted out a hand.

He clasped her wrist gently, and he brushed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He gave her an undecipherable look, his blue eyes swirling with something that she just couldn't put her finger on. "It's okay, Cuddy." The moment passed as quickly as it started, and he broke the contact, turning his attention back to the Flyers game. She hesitated, then she picked Rachel up, and she took her into the dining room.

Rachel started being fussy, and Cuddy had to struggle to get her into her high chair. Once there, she started banging on the small plastic tray that kept her in the seat, and she tried to wriggle out of it. "Rachel," Cuddy sighed, already frazzled. "Just sit, and relax." She pursed her lips as Rachel began to wail, grabbing at Cuddy with her chubby hands. Cuddy counted to ten, then she picked up the little girl, and she began soothing her, trying to calm her down.

House frowned and wrinkled up his nose in annoyance at the sound of Rachel's wails. "That kid's way too much trouble than she's worth," he muttered to himself, and he tried to focus on the game. When her cries didn't go away, he shut off the T.V. He stood up, and he stretched, pausing when his stomach let out a loud rumble. He hadn't eaten since Cuddy had given him his clothes back, and then, he had only had a sandwich and a bowl of soup. His metabolism was demanding something much more substantial. He tossed the remote on the couch, then headed into the kitchen

He browsed Cuddy's cupboards, and he snorted in frustration. He began pulling out ingredients, and he was organizing them when she came back into the kitchen. She paused, watching him as his capable hands chopped and sliced. She opened the refrigerator, and she began to gather the items she had set aside for Rachel's dinner, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eyes. His hands were deft and precise. He finally rolled his eyes. "Ogle me later. Feed the brat before I find some Ativan to give her." She broke out of her trance, then microwaved Rachel's dinner. She arraigned the items on a plate, then she left the kitchen.

Rachel was an active eater, and tonight, she felt the need to share with Cuddy. Unfortunately, sharing with Cuddy meant that Cuddy wound up wearing most of Rachel's dinner. She sighed, as a splat of mashed potatoes landed on her face. She felt her face heat up, and irritation bubbled up with in her. She looked at Rachel, who, at first, seemed to know what she had done. The little girl's eyes grew wide with fear, then, seeing the look of shock on her mother's face, a laugh burst out.

Cuddy put down the spoon, and she left the room, heading towards the bathroom. House stuck his head outside the kitchen door, watching her as she stormed down the hallway. He tilted his head to one side, then he put the pot on simmer. He headed into the dining room, where Rachel was talking gibberish to herself, a puzzled frown on her chubby features. He saw the mess surrounding the girl, then grinned. "Kid, only I'm allowed to irritate your mom that much," he informed her, sitting down in the chair that Cuddy was in. "And that's only because I know what to do to make up for it." He picked up the spoon, and he wrinkled his face up at the food. "Ugh, mashed potatoes and peas. I think I'd throw a tantrum, too. But this is what your mom wants you to eat, so here goes, kid." He picked up the spoon, and he began to feed her.

Cuddy washed her face, trying not to cry. She was on emotional overload, and she didn't know how to handle it. With what was going on with House, the snow storm that had brought them both together, being away from her hospital, and Rachel's tantrums, she was teetering on the edge. She lifted her head up, and she stared at herself in the mirror. It was as if of seeing a ghost. Her eyes were red, with dark circles underneath them, and her skin pale. She wore no make up, and her hair was pulled back in a limp tail. At first, she was aghast, then, a laugh bubbled up from her throat. "I can do this," she told her reflection. "I'm Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine, and Slayer of Pain-In-The-Ass Doctors and Insurance Agents. I can do this. I can handle the fourteen month old and fifty year old children." She took another deep breath. "I can do this," she exhaled, closing her eyes, and bracing herself.

Feeling both calmer and more empowered, she headed back to the dining room, and her heart nearly burst at the sight that greeted her. House was sitting on a chair, in front of Rachel, who was happily gooing and chattering to herself as he fed her spoonfuls of food. Every once in a while, she would push the spoon aside, and she would pick up the peas with her tiny fingers. She would meticulously eat them one at a time, smiling proudly.

It was a few minutes before House noticed she was there, and she was trying not to break the spell. It was a sight she had never even hoped she would ever see, and somehow, now that she knew she was glimpsing it, it still seemed surreal.

"Back from your mental meltdown?" House asked, not turning around. He put the spoon down on the plate, and he stood up, turning toward her. He quickly made his way across the room, moving fast despite his pronounced limp. He worked up his best scowl, and he handed her the plate. "I better not have burnt the broth," he growled, then he left the room.

After Rachel finished her dinner, Cuddy bathed her, then dressed her for bed. After about forty-five minutes of fussing, the little girl finally went to sleep, leaving Cuddy equally as exhausted in her wake.

Her home had filled with a delicious, spicy smell during that time, and she made her way down the hall. She peaked into the kitchen and found nothing but a pile of dirty pots and pans. She actually growled at the sight, promising to kill someone for not cleaning up their mess. She stormed into the dining room, and her anger left her, for the moment. "You set the table?" she exclaimed outloud. Her eyes widened at the table, which even had a couple of stubby red and green candles lit on it.

He jerked his head up. "You've put up with me for the past few days," he shrugged reluctantly. "Figured the most I could do is cook you dinner."

"It smells delicious." She slid into a seat, and he poured her a glass of wine.

"I raided your wine cabinet," he informed her brusquely, and he sat down.

They ate in silence, though she burned to ask him questions. Somehow, she knew if she did, she would ruin the moment. Besides, with the snowfall, she'd at least have one more day with him. One more day to try and get into his brain. This moment was just to relax, and to see a softer side of him. A side he rarely showed. She frowned at that thought, knowing that he would punish her later for that.

After dinner, he stayed up, reading, while she went to bed. A few hours later, she felt his heavy body slide into bed next to her, and she stirred, feeling his arms wrap around her. She pressed back against him, reassured by his presence. For the first time in a long time, she felt content. Not happy, not yet, but content. She feel back asleep, surrounded by his warmth, knowing that it couldn't last.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_**

**_Cold Winter Dreams_**

Lisa Cuddy was snuggled underneath her comforter, sound asleep. Her dark curls poked up from the pillow, and she had rolled the thick blanket around her. House woke up because his feet were cold. He'd woken a few hours earlier, but the pain that plagued him hadn't been that bad, this time. He rolled over with a grunt, and he found that she had wrapped herself in most of the covers. He tugged on a corner, grumbling, but it didn't give. Not detoured, he slipped a hand around her waist, and he smuggled up closer to her.

She sighed, stirring a little, but she didn't wake up. He worked his hand under the blanket, and he began stroking her flank. His fingertips played the skin of her thigh like a piano, teasing and tickling as he worked his way under her nightie. She sighed happily, stretching a little, but her eyes remained closed. He frowned, then he ran a hand over her breast, teasing her nipple in to hardness.

He could get used to this. The thought crossed his mind, and he quickly banished it. He had no need of getting used to this. Just because he'd been trapped in the house of his own personal she-demon from hell didn't mean anything. And the sex really didn't mean anything. It was just sex; a physical release between two lonely and horny people.

Deep in thought, he palmed the smooth skin of her breast, feeling the weight of it fill his hand. He could still smell the rich lavender of her shampoo, even though it had been hours since they had shared the shower together. He felt himself harden as his hand trailed down her taut abdomen. He smiled at the feel of her under his hand, feeling the fine fur of her secret place brush against his fingertips. He teased the curls, hoping she open up to him.

He reluctantly moved his hand, and he pulled the loosened blankets back, sliding as close to her as possible. He spooned against her, feeling his hardness flex against her bottom, before it settled comfortably in the cleft between her sweet cheeks. He lay against her, nuzzling her dark curls as they spread across the pillow, enjoying the smell of her.

He stroked her stomach, feeling the muscles tense and flex under his fingers, and he once again trailed down her belly, wanting to delve into that secret place between her soft thighs, hidden by the silky scrap of satin that rested against her skin.. He pressed himself against her, and the pulse of his erection was becoming a dull throb. She shifted in her sleep, involuntarily pressing back against him, and he saw stars dance behind his eyelids as her bottom snugly caressed him.

He worried his hand in between her thighs, and he gently pulled her right thigh over his own hip, opening her up to his touch. He felt his breathing hitch as he ran a long finger into the crease, slowly teasing the sensitive skin. On each pass, he dove a little farther, until he found that sensitive, swollen nub. He teased it with the pad of his thumb until she moaned softly. She tightened her grip on the sheets, but, to his disappointment, she didn't show any other sign of waking up.

He snorted to himself, and he wiggled away from her, allowing her to roll over on her back, throwing a slender arm over her eyes. He maneuvered himself down to the foot of the bed, and he moved up, between her thighs. He watched her intently as he slipped the satiny scrap of cloth that she used as underwear down her thighs and over her ankles. He slid his hands back up the insides of her toned calves and over the silky skin of her inner thighs, all the while keeping his eyes on the promised land.

He had to take a taste, so he kissed her sensitive nub, first parting her moist lips with his fingers. He tasted her arousal, licking and kissing that most sensitive of places. He couldn't get enough of her ambrosia, and he felt himself throb with every lick and suck. If he didn't get a hold of himself soon, his party was going to be over before it began, he realized, belatedly, as he lapped up her sweet milk.

Cuddy was having the most wonderful dream. She usually didn't dream, or if she did, she they were so unremarkable that she couldn't remember them. This one, it seemed, was going to be an exception to the rule. She didn't want to wake up, but the tug of arousal from her body seemed to make that inevitable. Moaning softly, she stirred, reluctantly opening her eyes. The sight that met her was erotic, and a little disturbing.

House was lying between her thighs, with one of her legs thrown causally over his shoulder. Her nightie was pushed up over her breasts, exposing them to the cold night air with some effect. His eyes were closed, and his mouth worked at her, trying to bring her to ecstasy. His blue eyes opened up, and he looked up at her. She could feel him smile against her, then he continued his assault. He suckled the sensitive nub, and just when she felt on the edge of breaking, he slid a long, slender finger inside her, pushing her over.

When she came to her senses, she was startled to see him inches from her face. She squirmed a little underneath him, the arrogant press of his body pinning him to the mattress. "Do you always assault unwilling women in the middle of the night?" she hissed.

He grinned at her. "Only the one's who are in bed with me," he kissed her, teasing her lips with his. "And," he murmured against her lips, "I wouldn't exactly call you 'unwilling'".

She opened her mouth to him, and she could taste her fluids as his tongue tickled hers. She moved against him, feeling the flex of his erection into her stomach. Feeling the heat of her arousal flare up again, she scooted up until she felt the nudge of him against her mound. With a grin, he pressed himself against her moistened lower lips, and he smirked as she easily parted for him. "Oh, yeah," he grunted, pushing himself in her to the hilt. "You're so unwilling."

She moaned as he filled her, clutching at his back. They settled into an now all to familiar rhythm, but he slowed their dance, taking his time. She must have made a puzzled face, because he kissed her softly. "This may be my last chance at sampling the wares of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, the she-bitch of PPTH," he teased.

She snorted, and it wasn't a unflattering sound. "Damn right," she moaned. "Don't you forget it."

He pulled her thigh up, allowing her calf to caress his back and buttocks. "So, I'm a charity case?" he panted, trying hard to keep a slow and steady pace, when what he really wanted to do was pound her across the bed until they both came screaming.

"Does that surprise you?" she hissed, urging him on. She clawed at his back, and he was pretty sure he was going to have scratches there in the morning.

"Nope," he smirked, increasing his pace just a little. "Just making sure."

She purred out her gentle climax, and the squeezes of her release made his stomach muscles tense and spasm, as he pulsed gently inside of her. Spent, he curled up next to her, just as confused as before.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

His prediction proved true.

The sun had just risen completely over the horizon, the snow reflecting its blinding rays directly into her bedroom. He pulled a pillow over his face, groaning at the outrage of mother nature. She was curled up against his bare chest, her hair tickling the soft skin, and their legs were intertwined.

She was awake, listening to the soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat, until another sound invaded their cushioned private world. "Can't you shut that damn thing up?" he groaned, suddenly missing the warmth of her as she sat up, reaching across him to pick up her cell phone.

"Hello?" she sleepily answered, rolling back over. At the sound of the voice on the other end, she sat up. "Dr. Riley? Good morning," she answered, much more alertly. She listened intently as she swung out of bed. House groaned, and she shot him a warning look. "No, Riley, I didn't know the streets were clear. They were still snow covered when I went to bed last night." She held the phone to her shoulder with her ear as she slipped on her thick, terry-cloth robe. "They must have been plowing all night," she said with a little laugh in her voice. "Usually mine's the last street to get plowed." She peered out the window, grimacing at the high drifts that surrounded her home from the street department. "Barry, it's going to take me forever to dig out; I doubt the neighbor kid that usually shovels my sidewalk is out of bed. After all, it's not noon yet. You'll send Wilson?" her voice squeaked. "Um, okay, let me call my sitter and see..." She paused, listening.  
She turned back to House, who was lounging in bed. "Get dressed, now!" she mouthed, never actually speaking the words aloud. He sneered, then reluctantly climbed out of bed. She held up her hand, making him pause before leaving the room. "Oh wait, I think I may just be able to get one of my neighbors to watch Rachel until my usual sitter can get here." She looked at him pointedly, and he felt a sneer form on his face. "Will that be a problem? Okay, go ahead and send Wilson. I'll go ahead and get ready now."

At those words, House felt a lead weight sink in his stomach. He knew what she was going to ask, and there was no way he was going to do it. Nobody's fuzz was worth that. "Huh-uh," he told her when she hung up. "I know what you're gonna ask, and forget about it. No way in hell." He shook his head, distaste flavoring his mouth.

She looked at him. "Please?" she pleaded.

"Hell, no, Cuddy," he informed her. "Find someone else to watch your damn kid. I'm not gonna do it.

"House, please. It's just for a while..."

"Look," his voice rose with anger, "I'm not gonna do it!" He picked up a towel he'd dropped the previous day, and he wrapped it around his waist as he left the room. She was smoldering with her own anger and hurt, and he swore he heard her mutter "jerk" as he left. He pulled his clothes out of the dryer, and he took into the guest bathroom to change, then he picked up his own cell phone that he'd palmed when he'd gotten out of bed. Princeton's taxi service was on speed-dial.

"You gotta be crazy?" the guy on the other end sounded like he was from the Bronx. "Not on these roads. Nobody's that hard up."

"Nope, not crazy. And I'll triple the fare of anyone who can get here in ten minutes." As much as a cheap bastard that he was, he had no problem spending money to get out of his problems.

"Think we got a guy near enough to ya to be safe." The deal was made, and House snapped the cell shut. Now all he had to do was wait.

And he didn't have to wait long.

Cuddy was still in the shower when the cab pulled up in front of her house. House limped out the door without a goodbye. He pulled open the cab door, and he slid inside the acrid smelling space. "Aimin' to get the hell out of Dodge?" the cabbie asked.

"Nope, just across town." House gave the man his address, then settled back, knowing he had just royally screwed up.

But then again, that's what he was good at.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter Twelve_**

**_Icicles_**

(_One Week Later_)

Three days later, House sat in the loft, eating Frosted Flakes on Wilson's new sofa. His new leather sofa. The leather sofa that he had pleaded with House not to eat anything on.

He hadn't gone to work that day. His thigh was aching with a vengeance, and he could barely stand up right for long. As it had for the past three days. The Ibuprofen he was taking was barely putting a dent in the pain, so he was reclining on the couch, trying to distract himself as much as possible.

Thank god for Cinimax on Demand.

He took a big bite of the sugar coated flakes, dribbling milk on the chocolate brown sofa. He frowned, and he took the hem of his white tee shirt and he wiped up the spilled milk. Settling back, he turned his attention back to the t.v, just in time to see two nubile young women talk about freeing one of the women's sister from prison. They were discussing this topless, of course.

So of course, Wilson stumbled in the door just when the two started making out.

"House!" his roommate bellowed, putting his briefcase on the table by the door. Wilson pulled off his over coat, hanging it neatly on a coat hanger he had retrieved from the coat closet. He scowled distastefully at the images on the screen. "_This_ is what you've been doing all day? Sitting around in your pajamas, watching _porn_?" He shook his head in disgust.

"No," House drew out. "I've been in pain. It's just that there's nothing to do but watch porn and sit around in my pajamas while I ignore the pain. I think you need to buy us an X-box," he suggested, taking another bite of cereal.

"Are...are you _eating_ on my new couch?" Wilson stammered as his face turned bright red with anger.

"No," House drew out the word. "I'm eating on _our_ new couch."

Wilson shook with frustration. "I bought the loft, and I bought the furniture. You don't even pay rent. You don't even pay for groceries."

"I'm recovering," House said, quietly, then he quickly changed demeanor. "Doesn't mean I can't keep taking advantage of you, bestest buddy." He put the now empty bowl down on the floor, and he leaned back. "Baby steps, you know."

Wilson pursed his lips. "Baby steps, huh?" He shook his head, and he sat down heavily on the couch next to his friend. "Does the leg really hurt?"

House shot him a _duh_ look, then nodded. "Yeah, worse than usual."

"It's been hurting since the blizzard," Wilson commented, not so subtly.

"Yup."

"And you've been avoiding Cuddy since then, too."

House turned and gave his friend a dark look. He remained silent, but managed to convey warning.

"What happened during that storm?"

House sneered at the TV. He lost interest in the horribly contrived sex scene between the two very well endowed women, so he shut it off. "I was here, alone with my booze and porn."

"Yeah, the only things you buy," Wilson snorted, then gave his roommate a sharp look. "I don't believe you."

"You should," House snorted, toying with the frayed belt on his old, plaid robe.

"No, I shouldn't. You're a known liar." Wilson bit his lip, in thought. "This place was nearly spotless, and the fridge was still full." You weren't here.

"I spent some quality time getting to know our neighbors," he retorted. "Especially Nora. Did you know she's into full body massages. _Naked_ full body massages." He waggled his eyebrows at Wilson suggestively.

Wilson snorted with disgust. "I don't believe that," he groaned. "And I don't believe you were here. Something happened," he shook his finger at House. "Something big."

"Keep believing that, and I've got some a time share in Clearwater I'd like to sell you." He rolled his eyes. "Do you believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny, too?

"I'm Jewish," Wilson shot back. "I've never believed in them."

"Yeah, well, don't believe in your delusions, either." With a grunt, he stood up. "And personally, I'm offended that you'd think that at all about me. I think it's just a ploy to get me to move out." Wilson tried to look contrite, but House kept on. "Wrong move, mister. Now I'm really going to stick around." He limped towards his bedroom, leaving Wilson fuming on the couch.

[H] [H] [H]

(_Earlier That Day_)

Wilson was working at his desk, frowning. He glanced up at his clock, and he realized that lunch had gone by without an interruption. He put his pen down, and he brushed the charts he was working on aside. He stood up and stretched, rolling his neck from side to side, working out the kinks in the muscles.

He walked over to House's office, and of his team members, he only saw Foreman sitting at the table. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, and opened the door wide enough to poke his head through the crack. "Where's House?" he asked, his voice weary of asking that question.

"Good question," came Foreman's dry response. "Thought since you were his roommate, you'd know that answer," he grunted.

"He didn't come in to work?" Wilson was genuinely puzzled.

"Nope." Foreman shrugged. "Not that we have anything to do, since his last patient's treatment worked, but still," he trailed off before going back to reading his _Forbes_ magazine.

"Interesting," Wilson muttered. He closed the door, and he wandered down the hall, wondering why House hadn't shown up. His feet lead him to the elevator, where he met Cuddy, looking frazzled.

"Is House's leg pain really that bad?" she asked him abruptly as soon as she saw him.

He blinked. "He says it's been acting up," he told her, startled by her bluntness. "Why? What's up?"

She gritted her teeth. "Bill's on my ass about him taking too many personal days."

"Why? He's got them to spare?"

"That's what I said," she grumbled.

"Did you try calling him?" Wilson was confused, trying to figure out why she was seeking him out about House.

She shook her head. "No," she admitted.

"Then go call him." At her pursed lips, he sighed. "I'm House's roommate, not his keeper. He doesn't necessarily let me know what's going on." He frowned. "Actually, he's been even more secretive since that snowstorm last week."

Cuddy had one hell of a poker face, but even he could spot the color that lightly blushed her cheeks. "Really?" She tried to keep her tone conversational, but he caught it. _What is going on_? He thought to himself.

"Yeah," he kept up the act. "You'd think he was out doing something illegal, except, House doesn't hide when he does something illegal. In fact, he likes to rub it in our faces, especially if he gets away with it." He pursed his lips. "I think it was something personal. He always gets secretive about _personal_ matters, don't you think?" He waited for her response.

"Yes," Cuddy stammered. "Of course that's true." Rattled, she brushed a fly-away lock of hair out of her eyes. "Could you let him know that if he's going to take anymore personal days, he needs to give us notice. I swear, at the next Board meeting, Bill's going to propose that we bring in doctor's notes for sick days," she chuckled lightly.

He returned her wan grin. "What are we in, high school?"

"Yeah, right." She turned and headed down the hallway. He rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling like he _was _back in high school, being asked to pass notes between mutual friends.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

_**Frozen Tundra**_

Night had fallen by the time Cuddy was preparing to leave the hospital. True dark, the velvety night had settled over the world like a blanket. The still mountain-like piles of snow reflected the orange security lights that surrounded the hospital and dotted the parking lots, giving the area an eerie glow. Traffic was still slow, even though the snow was slowly melting. There was too much artificial light to see the stars.

It hurt, what he had done to her, but it had not been entirely unexpected. A rebound mercy fuck was how she had categorized it in her mind, even though she knew she wanted it to be something more. Unfortunately, to expect anything more out of one Gregory House was just asking for disaster, no matter how hard he tried. It was one of the major downsides to caring for the incorrigible man.

Wearily she left the office, her muscles screaming in protest at her. She'd love to go home to a waiting massage and glass of wine, but that was a beautiful dream that wasn't going happen. She was fully prepared to spend the next few hours chasing an active Rachel around the house, then cleaning up after the child finally went to bed. On top of that, she had some hiring requisitions to go over before she had to go to work the next day.

It never really ended.

Rubbing her eyes, she went to her car, hitting the button on her keychain fob to unlock her doors. She tossed her purse and briefcase in the passenger seat, then she slid into her drives seat, ready to go home.

"Your seats are comfortable," came a voice from her back seat.

She jumped a little, and she would deny that a tiny squeak escaped her throat until the day she died, but she recovered from her startle quickly. "What are you doing in my locked car?"

He held up her spare set. "I swiped it from your house two years ago in case I had to use your car for something," he admitted, grinning impishly.

"And that makes it right?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

"That makes it a fact." He sat up from his position laying across the back seats, resting his elbows on his knees. "You wanna do it?"

Cuddy's mouth moved in a small "o" shape, trying to find words to describe the fierce set of emotions running through her mind. "You've _got_ to be kidding me!" she exploded. "Get out of my car. Now."

House looked taken aback. "Seriously?"

"You ditch me after three days-"

"Of sex you enjoyed."

She ignored that. "After three days, as soon as I asked you to do something for me, and not to me." Her eyes flashed. "You're a selfish bastard."

"You're incredibly hot when you're angry." He grinned.

"You're an idiot. Get out of my car." She protested, yet again.

"Mine's broken down," he whined, wiggling a little on the seat. "I was hoping for a ride home-"

"Call Triple A," she snorted. "Now leave, before I call security," she flipped open her cell phone for emphasis.

"You're no fun," he whined, opening her car door. "And your tense. I know a way to relieve the pressure-"

"Get out!" she shrieked, startling herself at the sound of her voice.

"Hmpf," he snorted. "Shrieking harpy," he muttered, getting out of the car, finally leaving her alone.

She sat in her car for a moment, watching him walk off through her rear view mirror, before burying her face in her hands. After barely speaking with her for a week and a half, how dare he just pop up in her life like nothing happened between them, asking for sex. Asking for sex that would be incredible, nearly mind blowing-

_Lisa!_ She chastised herself, raking her fingers through her hair. She couldn't indulge herself in such fantasies. They cost too much. Sighing, she started her car, then backed out of the space, still fighting a losing battle with her mind.

He was completely unreliable, and totally self-centered. He'd never do anything that wasn't for himself, including her. He really hadn't changed, despite the sobriety, and her..._indulging_...in him that weekend was a reaction from ending it with Lucas. She had been longing for some..._intimacy_...and he had turned up at an inopportune time for her. She had been weak, and now, she wouldn't – no, she couldn't – let it happen again.

So she drove home in silence, wondering what might have been, if she had accepted his offer.

[H] [H] [H]

The winter air burned as he breathed, sitting on the curb while waiting for a cab. House sipped his coffee, scowling at the now cool cup. Ten freaking minutes, he'd been sitting, waiting for the cab he'd called. His old beater had finally given out; he was pretty sure it was the starter, which was replaceable, but, unfortunately, all the car places he'd called were closed until tomorrow.

"Little cold out, to be sitting on the curb," came a thick southern drawl from behind him. "Waiting for the cops to pick your sorry ass up?"

House stood up quickly, still scowling. "What the hell do you want?"

Bill Owens, the latest pain in House's ass in hospital administration, gave him a hateful grin. "Wondering if I need to call the police on some transient that's loitering on the curb. Too bad it's just you."

House snorted. "Surprised that stopped you." His blue eyes narrowed, and he didn't even bother to hide his dislike of the lawyer.

"Can't arrest someone for being an ass. Yet." He grinned. "But, I can get a certain Dean of Medicine fired for an inappropriate relationship with a subordinate." House's features froze. "Serve her some good, too, don'cha think? Spend some time with that kid, like a mom should."

"She's a great mother," the words escaped House's mouth before he could stop them.

Bill tilted his head, giving him an odd look. "Now how in the hell do you know that?"

"Friends with her ex," came House's too quick response. "Who do you think introduced them?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping that the big lawyer didn't see them shaking.

"And I'm sure she thanks you for that," Bill laughed, not a pleasant sounds. "I hear stuff 'round here. Nurses talk, 'n' such. They say you 'n' been quite an item for a long time."

House met the man's dark eyes. "Everybody lies."

"They say you get preferential treatment," Bill continued, as if House hadn't said anything.

"I get complicated cases," House retorted. "Some of my procedures are -"

"Borderline if not clearly illegal. Consent forms not signed. Lawsuits filed, even if you save the folks' life. You do a damn good job of making the patients you treat resent and even hate you. You know how much you cost the hospital?"

House rolled his eyes; he'd walked down this road several times. "Enough to keep the patients kids in Ivy League colleges," he snorted. "And to give you plenty of work, rather than sitting on your fat Texas ass all day." He glared at the lawyer. "I have tenure."

"You're a recovering drug addict, and trust me, you're on thin ice, _mi amigo_," he drew out.

House narrowed his eyes; he'd faced bigger and badder meanies trying to take him down. "I'm not on drugs, anymore, and besides," he shrugged, "I needed them for the pain."

"And now you're drug free and pain free." Bill raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I can't help but wondering if you've moved on to something else." He smirked a little. "Most addicts do."

"I'm not pain free," House growled. "Far from it, but I haven't taken any vicodin, or anything else other than what my therapist has prescribed." He glowered at the man. "You want me to piss in a cup?" House smirked himself. "Go get one, and I'll do it right here."

"No, no, no," Bill's tone was patronizing. "I wouldn't want your little winkie to freeze off here. Damn, it's cold," he declared.

House kept his gaze steady and cold. "Cab's here. Thanks for the chat," he said, as the yellow car pulled up.

"You think on what I said." Bill smiled, baring his teeth menacingly. "I wouldn't want Cuddy to lose her job over you. She's better than that, don't ya think.

House slammed the door on the cab shut harder than he'd intended. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath. He gave the cabbie directions, then sat in his seat, stewing over what Bill had said.


End file.
